The headaches increased, both in frequency and intensity, as did the pain in the right side of her face and the tiny lump behind her ear became more pronounced.
The doctors put it down to stress, or neuralgia maybe. And the lump? Probably a result of glandular fever she’d had a year since, or the mumps, when she was a child.
She was nineteen and training to be a nurse, which had been her heart’s desire. She was never happier, more content, she told them, but her words consistently fell on deaf ears.
A few weeks before her twenty-first birthday, she was taken ill at the Lister Hospital where she was working. One of the doctors there suspected something was very wrong and arranged for an immediate scan.
The results confirmed my worst fears.
She was diagnosed with so-called metastatic adenocarcinoma of the parotid gland and an operation was swiftly arranged.
The tumour was perilously close to her facial nerve and there was considerable doubt on the surgeon’s part that he had managed to remove it in tact.
After the surgery,the only scar she bore was a three inch, stitched, incision, following the line of her jaw below her right ear. Hardly a scratch really, in the grand scheme of things, which I remember telling her.
Her reply, constantly haunts me.
“Thank God,” she said, as I handed her a mirror. “I’d rather die than have them cut half of my face away.”
‘Why her?’ we asked, again and again. Why was she singled out to become a victim of this particularly rare type of cancer and even then, it was almost unprecedented in someone as young as she was.
Consequently, an accurate prognosis was impossible, which, in a way, I suppose, was for the best.
Despite everything, she got on with her life, qualified as an RGN, married and then decided to turn her talents to teaching at the Hertfordshire Postgraduate Medical School. Life seemed set fair.
On 2nd November, 1999, ten years later, on the threshold of the millennium and eight months married, I received a phone call that was to change lives irrevocably.
It was Richard, Andrea's husband. He and Andrea were sitting on a bench in Hyde Park. It was five in the evening and pitch dark. They were in shock, having just left the Royal Marsden Hospital with devastating news.
“The cancer’s come back,” he said. “It’s fucking come back.”
The tumour had re-grown as feared and presently had completely encased the facial nerve. Radical surgery was the only option. The implications of which were immense, for it meant removal of the facial nerve and much surrounding tissue.
They’d been told to go home and think about it. What was there to think about? At thirty years old and newly married, one grabs life with both hands, no matter what.
Funny, how we change, grow more pragmatic, the older we become.
After the operation, she was left with complete paralysis of the right side of her face.
Eating was laborious. Even blinking became a thing of the past. Fortunately, she was still able to half-close her eye, making sleeping less of a problem, but still not ideal. No more could she play her beloved cornet, kiss her husband even, blow on a cup of tea, or the worst thing of all ... smile.
Apart from the entire facial nerve, a significant proportion of jaw and cheek-bone was also removed. Obviously, it was an enormous shock, seeing her just after the operation. I have to admit, I wondered how the surgeon had felt, cutting into this beautiful young woman’s face. Half of me hated him for mutilating her and half of me thanked him for saving her life.
To my eyes, of course, she was still beautiful, which was easy for me to say. When she looked in the mirror, who would she see looking back at her?
It didn’t end there. Skin was grafted from her leg to repair her damaged face and repeated surgery on her eye and bottom lip, in an ongoing attempt to prevent them from drooping. All this, plus numerous radiation sessions, for which a mask, unique as she, was made so as to protect the rest of her face.
She dreaded those sessions, bizarre, claustrophobic as they were and the radiation itself totally drained her. So much so, that when treatment was finalised, she took the mask home, lit a bonfire and burned it.
Then began the painstaking process of picking up the pieces of her shattered life and fitting them together, as best she could.
Initially, she saw herself as ugly, disfigured and in fact her diaries reveal pencil drawings of herself – with half a face.
Eventually, she started wearing make-up again, caring about her appearance. Most importantly, the realisation dawned on her that others could benefit from her experience and she threw herself, headlong, into her career.
Consequently, she was promoted to Senior Lecturer, instructing the medical profession in how to help patients cope with similar facial disfigurements and also to come to terms with the psychological effects of being told that one has cancer, whether or not the scars were as visible as hers.
Nothing beats first-hand experience. Text books could go to hell, as far as she was concerned. The majority of doctors that she knew, especially after being married to one, certainly lacked excellence in their bedside technique, as did many of the nurses.
A couple of years later, fate dealt her a crueller blow. The tumour metastasized. Cancerous cells spread to her spine, her lungs and her liver.
Her strength failing, she was forced to take early retirement. The Health Service paid her a generous pension and, with the money, did what she had always longed to do ... see the world.
Cancer not only ravages bodies, but minds and marriages as well.
Her husband found the strain of living with a terminally ill wife too much and told her he was leaving, but not until after their planned trip. Still in love with him deep inside, she’d hoped that ‘getting away from it all’ might bring them closer together. Except there is no running away from cancer.
God only knows how she found the physical stamina but they visited India, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, Canada and more, but the place she really loved was India and intended to go back, one day.
A few months later, having returned home, she received the marvellous news that the cancer appeared to be in remission. She went from strength to strength, was reinstated in her job and started studying for a degree.
Her marriage over,she stayed on in the house they had been so happy in. Eventually, out of necessity, it was sold and she bought a small two-bedroom flat, close to the University and the support of her friends and colleagues.
Pretty soon after, not surprisingly, her health rapidly deteriorated and another tumour was detected in her stomach. By September she was barely able to walk except with the aid of crutches. One afternoon, she collapsed and was admitted to hospital, where we discovered that her pain had been so immense that she had not slept for weeks, or indeed eaten.
Contrary to popular belief, hospital is certainly not an ideal location for the dying and temporarily a place was arranged for her at a local hospice that specialises in cancer patients and their pain-relief. For the first time in months she was able to sleep and her overall condition improved. It soon became obvious she had a good few months ahead of her, at least.
Juliet, her sister, an ex-nurse and now a psychology teacher, decided to convert her house (with the help of a local building team who pulled out all the stops and completed the alterations in less than a week) so that she could spend her final days there. It had always been her promise to Andrea and she was determined to keep it.
Juliet loved having her there, but the emotional and physical strain was taking its toll, even with the help of many friends, most of them nurses.
The round the clock care that she now needed was becoming a problem. The MacMillan and Marie Curie nurses were wonderful but full-time care would have cost hundreds of pounds per week, plus the fact that Andrea was now on permanent oxygen which created a further problem and sadly she was forced to return to the hospice.
Juliet was devastated, but an inseparable bond had been made between the two of them and she was to be her sister’s strength in the hard days ahead.
In November, the University of Hertfordshire awarded Andrea a much deserved Master’s Degree in Higher Education. Upon learning of Andrea’s illness, they sent her certificate by post, prior to the official presentation planned for early December at St. Alban’s Cathedral.
They also provided her with cap and gown, which was fantastic because we now have many photographs to look back on, of her exclusive presentation day.
As expected, she was far too ill to attend the Cathedral, so her sister held a graduation party for her at her own house. Fireworks and all, which she adored. Even the weather put on a show. For Andrea, there were fireworks in the snow, her favourite kind of weather.
On New Year’s Eve, 2007, three hours before midnight, she died, holding her sister’s hand. She hadn’t quite made her 40th year. Although of course in India, where she had left her heart, all those months ago, it was already 2008.
As Big Ben struck twelve and with fireworks exploding all around, I couldn’t help but think she had planned it this way. There was nothing else in the world could have topped this as a more fitting send-off for that final journey of hers.
Everyone who had ever met Andrea was a changed person, inspired totally by her positive, tireless and quite amazing love of life. To the end, she never lost her sense of humour.
I recall Christmas Day, when I told her she looked really good, dressed in red, her favourite colour. She laughed that lop-sided laugh of hers and said, “Good? For a dying lady, you mean!”
Today, I shall be at her ‘Celebration of Life’, along with upwards of two hundred others. Testament indeed to the lives she’d enriched and the hearts she had touched.
For her, no ordinary coffin, as one of her closest friends has hand-painted it. A first for the undertakers, we understand. Also a first, will be the pall-bearers’ jazzy ties and orange gerbera buttonholes!
‘Master of Ceremonies’ will be the Chaplain of the hospice where she spent her final days. He plans to wear his ceremonial golden robe. The one normally reserved for celebrations such as Christmas and Easter.
That about says it all really … Except to reiterate a text message sent to her the night she died by her best friend, Nikki. ‘Bon Voyage’.
Bon voyage indeed, to one remarkable lady, who just happened to be my daughter.
“Celebrate the life I have lived. Don’t mourn the life that I have not.”
Andrea Parker MA
02.08.1968 – 31.12.2007
It’s not the dates that matter – it’s the space between them that counts.
Comments
tcook | August 27, 2008 - 09:30
What a beautiful testimony. It gave me goosebumps.
Silver Spun Sand | August 27, 2008 - 16:08
Thank you, Tony for your words, and the cherry. They were Andrea's favourite fruit.
ladylazarus | August 30, 2008 - 14:25
Like the others have said, this made my hair stand up and brought tears to my eyes. You are both brave women, thank you for sharing your memories.
Silver Spun Sand | August 30, 2008 - 16:42
Memories mean so much more when we share them, so indeed it is I who should thank you.
Tina
cjm | September 12, 2008 - 09:16
This is such a heartfelt, poignant account, told in such a poised manner that it touches every reader.
Silver Spun Sand | September 13, 2008 - 16:09
My sincere appreciation for reading this cjm. I am pleased that you got something from it.
Tina
Mick Hanson | September 14, 2008 - 21:51
'We that had loved her so, followed her, honoured her,
Lived in her mild and magnificent eye,
Learned her great language, caught her clear accents,
Made her our pattern to live and to die!'
Robert Browning 1812 - 1889
Silver Spun Sand | February 28, 2009 - 14:30
Her strength was mine. I thank you.
Tina xx
Jupiter | June 13, 2009 - 11:07
So saddened to read this Tina. I am a grown man in tears. If I could take away your pain I would.
Your final words are so correct :
It’s not the dates that matter – it’s the space between them that counts.
and the people that filled that space x
Silver Spun Sand | June 13, 2009 - 13:02
I am really pleased you chose to read this, Jupiter. Thank you so very much.
And also, your words mean much. They say that time is a great healer and that may be true, but at the moment, myself, my husband and Andrea's sister, take each day at a time, trying to come to terms with our loss. There are so many reminders in every day things and nothing can stop that feeling of injustice. But then, there is much injustice in the world, and compared to so many others, we are the lucky ones.
Once more, my sincere thanks.
Tina
Silver Spun Sand | September 2, 2009 - 20:45
Julie - You sure have written, 'OK';-) And how right you are; we none of us know what is around the corner...not from one second to the next.
The party, her last party, happened just as I described. It was magic, almost. And Julie, as for your last remark, please don't thank me. I, and my late daughter, Andrea, thank you, Julie, for caring.
Tina xx;-)
Christine | October 24, 2009 - 09:11
Christine
I just read your story and found it unbearably moving. I don't know what to say. Thank you.
Silver Spun Sand | October 24, 2009 - 09:43
Thank you for reading. I appreciate it very much. It helps to share our experiences and know we are not alone...not by any means.
Tina
Cavalcaderl | December 15, 2009 - 15:16
New-Silver-spun-sand
Just found sad story
but a nurse her wish and certificate
so brave and young, I feel gutted
each time it went further. But her inspiration
and courage, amazing an to travel
and all of you to care and
comfort and show love for her must have been very hard indeed and to do and get her wishes-
"Fireworks In The Snow"
and a party she had loved ones with her. She knew you were there I'm sure, and if you hold someone's hand always great comfort.xx
The worse is to have watch them or anyone in pain!
and families men don't always understand or know
what to do! I have experienced myself to a lot and our family and pop cancer and Bals Palsy, and some other thing's, me and now as year's roll by. Especially !'God bless this child'! close relation. I couldn't get this come up now found out how.Computer dodgy.This is truly terrible, look brilliant Author writer! you are.It's obvious her Inspiration is coming shining through to you!! all you do.
bless +you all.
I hope you get rest and peace and help
that is not always the case is it.Hope Iv'e written ok. We never know what is round the corner do we?Even now. 16 years wasted.I had all done! Thing's still hit us beyond belief.Plus something's in family's already, then when your own one can't believe can they.But my priest there for me in all adversitiy. No cure, they say.Never get over it other's,did just amazing how much can do? Never give up, is motto now t.v. Sing and dance so good for you.
Thankyou for sharing this with all the readers.
and many congratulation's although very very sad, You definitely should be Crowned ! "Fairy Queen of The Year!! 2009 xx bless+ you.
julie xx cavalcader (:-
Silver Spun Sand | December 15, 2009 - 18:53
And God bless you, dear Julie.
Thank you so very much for your beautiful words which you have written more than eloquently;-)
but what you wrote between the lines too, was also wonderful. I think you know what I mean.
My daughter was an inspiration to all who knew her and her memory continues to inspire and it gives me, my husband and her sister much comfort. As did your words and I thank you again for them.
Tina xx
Cavalcaderl | December 15, 2009 - 19:06
new Silver-Spun-Sand
Thankyou so much answering
and you lovely kind words.
Course I fully understand
julie xx.
RachelPatricia | April 2, 2010 - 19:14
I promised I would, and I have. I am in a bit of a state, to be honest.
For somebody who proclaims to be good with words, I have none at hand right now. I have never read anything that has moved me so much, Tina.
Your daughter is an inspiration. She has certainly inspired me; you are so right, she touched so many lives and still does. Such strength and passion for life - so many people could benefit by following her example. I wish I could have known her, Tina, but through your story, I feel I do. Just a little, but enough that I will never forget this story, your story from mother to daughter, so beautifully put and a testament to all she achieved in her life. She lived her life to the full, despite her many obstacles, where many others who have no such troubles selfishly waste theirs. Not only that, but she lived to care for others. That, I find completely remarkable. You must be so proud.
I don't want to say too much that may bring tears to your eyes too, unless they are happy ones, for you have had enough grief and I'd hate to add to it. All I want to say is that my life has been made greater by reading this story, thank you so much for suggesting I read it.
With sincere regards,
Rachel xx
Silver Spun Sand | April 3, 2010 - 08:04
I cannot thank you enough for reading this, Rachel and you did bring tears to my ears, but indeed, I do have so many, many happy memories of Andrea to make me smile through them.
She would have wanted me to tell her story to all who would listen and I can only thank you again...not least for your words, which mean much.
Tina xx
RachelPatricia | April 3, 2010 - 16:16
A beautiful story from one beautiful woman to another, Tina. You are very welcome for your comment and I'm so pleased my words meant something to you. A story forever in my heart now, so thank you for sharing with us,
Rachel xx
Denzella | January 8, 2012 - 00:18
Hello SSS,
Tina, I saw from one of your other posts that you directed someone to this story of your daughter, Andrea.
I hope you don't mind but I took the liberty of reading it too. It is a truly moving story of a brave young woman moving towards the end of her life surrounded by a loving family and friends. I think the first poem of yours that I read was honouring your second daughter, Julie for what she did for her sister and you must be very proud of both of them.
It was in 2007 that I was diagnosed with Parkinson's and two weeks later diagnosed with bowel cancer. Fortunately I survived though for a while it was touch and go and my daughters were amazing too.
We both have reason to be proud of our girls.
Best wishes to you
Moya
Silver Spun Sand | January 8, 2012 - 15:24
Moya - thank you so very much for your lovely comment. And yes, I am proud of both my daughters.
I wish you well, and many thanks for reading, and sharing;-)
Tina
Indrani Ananda | January 9, 2012 - 18:36
Indrani Ananda
As you suggested, Tina, I finally got round to reading this. You poor, poor lady: it made me weep. Watching all this happen to someone you love, so helpless, even if you had all the money in the world, it's so hard to realise. I nearly lost my sister in 2003 with breast cancer - she was in the Marsden Hospital, but it is still hard to take in the unbearable cruelty of life to make a beautiful and clever young woman suffer a fate like Andrea.
No wonder you are a brilliant poet - it seems that all talented people have to suffer somewhere in their lives.
Now I feel guilty about refreshing your memories of this tragedy. Please forgive me; all the best,
Indrani.
Silver Spun Sand | January 9, 2012 - 19:04
On the contrary, Indrani...it gives me great comfort to talk about Andrea. In a way it keeps part of her alive.
Thank you, so very much, for your words, they mean far more than you could ever know...and for reading Andrea's story, of course.
Tina
animan | April 3, 2012 - 08:02
As suggested, Tina, I have read this too. It is a very moving and delicate tribute. It's the kind of thing that, as you read it, you know you will not forget it nor the people described in it. Somehow, the poise and control of the writing shows all the more strongly the heart that has gone into the writing and into the processing of such difficult and intense experience.
Silver Spun Sand | April 8, 2012 - 11:19
I really appreciate your reading this, and thank you so much for your empathy.
Tina
Cavalcaderl | April 26, 2012 - 19:18
new Silver-Spun-Sand
Hi! Now I can type! See and read
again, this truly amazing story,of your
wonderful daughter and suffering and care always for others, the love and care from you and her sister.
Naturally I am full of empathy for you. See The readings still going on. Now 1661.
So it should be the Best Read,
and written on the AbcTales. Sad and beautifully told, many will read and go on and on, inspiration of Andre and you,By her lovely mum, great testament. How wonderful you can type Andre
into the poems,you so beautifully achieved.
I deeply feel that some of the spirit,is from her too. For you to achieve it all so perfect.
all the best julie x
Silver Spun Sand | April 26, 2012 - 22:38
Julie - how lovely of you to read this again. I am glad you can see well now. I guess you have got your glasses sorted out OK.
I think you are right about Andrea's spirit...in fact I know you are;-)
Take care now, and I hope you will soon be writing some more of your amazing poetry.
Tina ;-)x
Silver Spun Sand | April 27, 2012 - 08:25
How wonderful to get a letter from the queen;-)
I bet it is difficult to get used to your glasses again, and I hope all your cuts and bruises, are healing nicely and that they sort out that 'low sugar' for you.
You take care now, Julie, and have a good and safe weekend;-)
Tina xx
Cavalcaderl | April 27, 2012 - 16:27
new Silver-Spun-Sand
Letter.
Tina,Of course I would read this again,
and anywhen,greatest poem,on The AbcTales.
Did I get permission once from you,read it out,
or it was another one. But you explained it so perfectly,I could see the fireworks and all imagining
Andre's wishes.
The I adored Diana awful nightmare got,put it out my
head,Ray said go back to sleep! up for work early put tv on came in and told me true! Buried on my birthday then,many things given me and bits I bought
too £10 ring similiar at that time send away,and then when H.R.H Prince William engaged On thee I wed
on Mummy's ring, to Duchess Kate Middleton a beauty too,shop guided me to another said got replica bigger tha first for £5 beautiful. Course Prince's always serve the people,like there wonderful mum taught them. Friend and I came watched tv both dressed up,and toasted them,glued tv. The dress had daughter's wedding then,and little fascinator,couple
of drinks, bit of bunting, friend sent big card of H.R.H Prince William and Duchess Kate driving that amazing car. Ray won soldier Red White and blue, months back on crane Brighton pier amusements lovely. Books and dvd thimble etc; have Diana. I put
beautiful picture had in the window drew the curtains,went to vigil pray Brighton, couldn't believe,mentioned my birthday,choked had come back home. I know if alive,would loved been seen Princes grown up, and be at wedding,maybe Diamond Jubilee.
Have 2nd books long ago H.M. The Queen and all Royal family in,did you watch H.M. Queen Victoria last love
on tv. Great thought, her love caring,so difficult too? Plis story of throne she got so lonely. We all
do sometimes. Can understand when all get older. Look at "Jazz" and me! amazing.
Well it's been grotty four weeks,with all,involved.
Not the glasses, was cuts bruises,low sugar,and all
involved and much more! So didn't talk of it,couldn't,and at time not sure! where it was going too? So only sent email Tony, as thought broken wrist
at time, and nose etc; sent lovley email get well soon,not knowing
Editor Tony had bad leg crash in Alps,mending well healing too. How was your fall. You mentioned. Whoops see spelling mistakes. Fall at shop k's stand,
involved staff,ambulance two nice guys,said get,Q and Tests done,hitting the deck marble floor,don't think two girl's much in 1st aid,clean me up,I gave big tissue,said new red age 12, thought didn't move patient till professionals arrived, Asked Ray get something sweet,yep tests,one sugar low! he said Mil;kyway, yes ok. said pray,tea then ordered and me
eate Milkyway,all retested. I really didn't see what
hit,felt something,left leg,over twice,couldn't believe. Blow me now WilkyBarKid doen poem of the week,and one,called Tea and Sympathy, told Editor.
T.cook Tony,maybe WilkyBarKid should be called MilkyBarKid instead as saved me!
Well when I got card from H.M The Queen it was right
in bed,from fall, Ray brought in,just done the
poem "I Crown Thee King Jazz" strange as lines included The Queen, Denzellas kind title as first comment. Help me with mine. But it was forgotten, in
answer to Feb' sent H.M The Queen loyalty love words
and long may she reign,flower 1nd card said like her beautiful garden,no matter what happened always loyal to her country to travel verywhere,nver give up
her age, is amazing. That was Feb;6 for Diamond Jubilee and well done. Forgot,wrong month,did poem on March 2nd the terrible fall feb 21st. March 6th
Wonderful card as said from H.M.The Queen course poem stated couple lines, as that wonderfull "Jazz"
in on bed. says maybe H.M. The Queen send him a medal cerificate or just note,love and care faitfullness me,as put or saw him,before going bed,early pointed in hall,and said do you recognise me still,went Miaow. H.M. Card come at same time.
Six beautiful photos of H.M. Diamond Jubilee. So then sent copy of poem, post may have gone astray!
Wrote on envelope overwhelmed, wrote came over all fall. Black Panda eyes all gone! Glasses not three weeks wear,so getting used,bridge of nose.
Night going sleep and pray.
take care bless you
julie xx
all the best julie xx
Cavalcaderl | April 27, 2012 - 17:21
new Silver-Spun=Sand
Tina,hello! well you have sent sunshine,
thankyou for great words. Of concern and comfort.
You know you have been there too,course we couldn't go Worthing show tickets wasted L "Dusty Springfield" one. Manager email sorry come soon,so have one Ray will come,follow on "DreamBoats and Petticoats". Rock n roll story love.
Whe H.M. sent that card,I thought,all she has done,
got out bed,told Ray going to "DreamBoats and Petticoats2 show Theatre Royal B/ton booked,gripped his arm,got bus,he went,asked if signing programme no! Curtain staff showed me seat,do you know "Terry
Winstanley" in at Worthing allowed all photed and signing. Showed her,put in about mechanical fall,incase had leave,give,bit loud beg: stayed at end cats mentioned tw numbers can dance,could I. yEP!bit iffy! Ray come back me,so gripped arm, oh! took glasses managed put halway on nose,to watch show one hand,round too stage door "Terry Winstanley there"
and some cast,he signed as still bruised,didn't want photo Ray took,but "Terry" kindly said oh! yes bridge nose,put his arm round me bingo! photo together. Such a great star, and dad and grandad.
Then home back to bed most day. Photo being middayish
came out sun nearly clear! Written The Sound Of Music book for his grandchildren one day. Won as a look a like there! suit Primarks sewn music notes and copy song Ray done! to big carry,said my mum loved been here,signed by letter large great pictures and story.
But course one scenes of Cavalcade mum and I then xtras in,was funeral of H.M. Queen Victoria, all in black on hot summer's day,may been words recordings. Don't think picture,and know one took part of H.M. Queen Victoria. Noel Cowards Cavalcade. No one knew couldn't go far,what an achievement, or about me.
Now doing what our Editor said rest up.
But much worse than put,including friend and friend's put, bp heart rate up,visit steps surgery,
only went thinking broken wrist. Rept; said could have most like other one.
Called unexspected, in bed, mine knew,then going leave me in surgery, come back afte getting something for him,not came in surgery! all that could pushed bp sky high she found,said I know hopw it works? But that point given up,lost in corridoor,and hardly open surgery door get out!
I really felt wasted in there top floor,and pills bp no! wouldn't look at my sketch,nothing bruises,and on bust, book in week,cancelled all and swopped1 to another as said receptionists. Kept ambulance sheet showed, got mine to cancell,rest get bp down,stopping in bed midday. No arguments.
Editor t.cook Tony says rest up! got you know who in.
You take care too,bless you.
None of neighbours knew as not in paper with thanks!
phew! hot love poem bit about the ducks!
Have good week end. Joining for another 1o lessons all can,"Singing for pleasure! or pay weekly. All can.
For the martlets. And show coming up, Worthing again,hope, May 5th. maybe London see,escalator. one so high, dates coming up future with singing all Term finishes Tuesday/Wednesday, starts day for London,May 15th could leave out as 1o weeks,musical show xmas The Martlets all can be in,saw last year fab;seats hard if too long, all could be in us
Hope get London! Buses awful timing, conversion of roads congestion brakes are slammed on!
julie xx bless you have a good week-end.
Do me elabaorate poem of nature, animals flowers and that beautiful garden of your's. Please. Re-added ugh!
Cavalcaderl | April 27, 2012 - 17:37
new Silver-Spun-Sand
Yes,choked as re reading the
wonderful story of your brave and
wonderful caring daughter,and all she went through.Sounds all so horriific,and one always
wonder why! Poor Andre what! a great send of aye!
Never forget. So much Andrea suffered.
I ws scared look at my daughter,hid bheind magazine,
laughed. This is beyond think and imagine isn't it.
you take care
julie xx